George Selwyn has had a frightful accident, that ended in a great escape. He was at dinner at Lord Coventry's, and just as he was drinking a glass of wine, he was seized with a fit of coughing, the liquor went wrong, and suffocated him he got up for some water at the side-board, but being strangled, and losing his senses, he fell against the corner of the marble-table with such violence, that they thought he had killed himself by a fracture of his skull. He lay senseless for some time, and was recovered with difficulty. He was immediately blooded, and had the chief wound, which is just over the eye, sewed up-but you never saw so battered a figure. All round his eye is as black as jet, and besides the scar on his forehead, he has cut his nose at top and bottom. He is well off with his life, and we with his wit.

P. S. Lord Macclesfield has left his wife threescore thousand pounds.

TO THE EARL OF HERTFORD.

Tuesday night, March 27, 1764. YOUR brother has just told me, my dear lord, at the Opera, that Colonel Keith, a friend of his, sets out for Paris on Thursday. I take that opportunity of saying a few things to you, which would be less proper than by the common post; and if I have not time to write to Lord Beauchamp too, I will defer my answer to him till Friday, as the postoffice will be more welcome to read that.

Lord Bute is come to town, has been long with the King alone, and goes publicly to court and the House of Lords, where the Barony of Bottetourt has engrossed them some

1 Lord Macclesfield's second wife, whom he married in 1757, was a Miss Dorothy Nesbit -E.

The ancient Barony of Bottetourt had been considered as extinct ever since the reign of Edward III. and was now claimed by Mr. Norborne Berkeley, member for Gloucestershire, and a groom of the bedchamber; the revival of a claim so long forgotten created considerable interest.-C.

days, and of which the town thinks much, and I not at all, so I can tell you nothing about it. The first two days, I hear, Lord Bute was little noticed; but to-day much court was paid to him, even by the Duke of Bedford. Why this difference, I don't know: that matters are somehow adjusted between the favourite not minister, and the ministers not favourites, I have no doubt. Pitt certainly has been treating with him, and so threw away the great and unexpected progress which the opposition had made. They, good people, are either not angry with him for this, or have not found it out. The Sandwiches and Rigbys, who feel another half year coming into their pockets, are not so blind. For my own part, I rejoice that the opposition are only fools, and by thus missing their treaty, will not appear knaves. In the mean time, I have no doubt but the return of Lord Bute must produce confusion at court. He and Grenville are both too fond of being ministers, not to be jealous of one another. If what is said to be designed proves true, that the King will go to Hanover, and take the Queen with him, I shall expect that clamour (which you see depends on very few men,' for it has subsided during these private negotiations) will rise higher than ever. The Queen's absence must be designed to leave the regency in the hands of another lady: connect that with Lord Bute's return, and judge what will be the consequence! These are the present politics, at least mine, who trouble myself little about them, and know less. I have not been at the House this month; the great points which interested me are over, and the very stand has shut the door. I might like some folks out, but there are so few that I desire to see in, that indifference is my present most predominating principle. The busier world are attentive to the election at Cambridge, which comes on next Friday; and I think, now, Lord Sandwich's friends have little hopes. Had I a vote, it would not be given for the new Lord Hardwicke.

This is an important observation: it affords a clue to the causes of the unpopularity of the early years of George III.—C.

2 The Princess Dowager.

But we have a more extraordinary affair to engage us, and of which you particularly will hear much more,—indeed, I fear must be involved in. D'Eon has published (but to be sure you have already heard so) a most scandalous quarto, abusing Monsieur de Guerchy outrageously, and most offensive to Messieurs de Praslin and Nivernois.1 In truth, I think he will have made all three irreconcileable enemies. The Duc de Praslin must be enraged as to the Duke's carelessness and partiality to D'Eon, and will certainly grow to hate Guerchy, concluding the latter can never forgive him. D'Eon, even by his own account, is as culpable as possible, mad with pride, insolent, abusive, ungrateful, and dishonest, in short, a complication of abominations, yet originally illused by his court, afterwards too well; above all, he has great malice, and great parts to put that malice in play. Though there are even many bad puns in his book, a very uncommon fault in a French book, yet there is much wit too. Monsieur de Guerchy is extremely hurt, though with the least reason of the three; for his character for bravery and good-nature is so established, that here, at least, he will not suffer. I could write pages to you upon this subject, for I am full of it - but I will send you the book. The council have met to-day to consider what to do upon it. Most people think it difficult for them to do anything. Lord Mansfield thinks they can but I fear he has a little alacrity on the severe side in such cases. Yet I should be glad the law would allow severity in the present case. I should be glad of it, as I was in your case last week; and considering the present constitution of things, would put the severity of the law in execution. You will wonder at this sentence out of my mouth, but not when you have heard my reason.

The

' M. de Praslin was secretary for foreign affairs, and M. de Nivernois had been lately ambassador in England.-C.

2 At this distance of time, D'Eon's book seems to us the mere ravings of insane vanity; the puns poor, and the wit rare and forced.-C.

It certainly does not appear quite consistent, that Mr. Walpole, who so much disapproves of an attack on his friends, Lord Hertford and M. de Guerchy, should have been delighted, but a few pages since, with the

liberty of the press has been so much abused, that almost all men, especially such as have weight, I mean, grave hypocrites and men of arbitrary principles, are ready to demand a restraint. I would therefore show, that the law, as it already stands, is efficacious enough to repress enormities. I hope so, particularly in Monsieur de Guerchy's case, or I do not see how a foreign minister can come hither; if, while their persons are called sacred, their characters are at the mercy of every servant that can pick a lock and pay for printing a letter. It is an odd coincidence of accidents that has produced abuse on you and your tally in the same week —but yours was a flea-bite.

Thank you, my dear lord, for your anecdotes relative to Madame Pompadour, her illness, and the pretenders to her succession. I hope she may live till I see her; she is one of the greatest curiosities of the age, and I am a pretty universal virtuoso. The match of my niece with the Duke of Portland1 was, I own, what I hinted at, and what I then believed likely to happen. It is now quite off, and with very extraordinary circumstances; but if I tell it you at all, it must not be in a letter, especially when D'Eons steal letters and print them. It is a secret, and so little to the lover's advantage, that I, who have a great regard for his family, shall not be the first to divulge it.

We had, last night, a magnificent ball at Lady Cardigan's;2 three sumptuous suppers in three rooms. The house, you know, is crammed with fine things, pictures, china, japan, vases, and every species of curiosity. These are much increased even since I was in favour there, particularly by Lord Montagu's importations. I was curious to see how many quarrels my lady must have gulped before she could fill her house-truly, not many, (though some,) for there were very few of her own acquaintance, chiefly recruits of her son and daughter. There was not the soupçon of a Bed

hemlock administered to Lord Holland, and the scurrility against Bishop Warburton.-C. 2 See antè, p. 386.

1 See antè, p. 387.

ford, though the town has married Lord Tavistock and Lady Betty' but he is coming to you to France. The Duchess of Bedford told me how hard it was, that I, who had personally offended my Lady Cardigan, should be invited, and that she, who had done nothing, and yet had tried to be reconciled, should not be asked. "Oh, Madam," said I, "be easy as to that point, for though she has invited me, she will scarce speak to me - but I let all such quarrels come and go as they please: if people, so indifferent to me, quarrel with me, it is no reason why I should quarrel with them, and they have my full leave to be reconciled when they please."

I must trouble you once more to know to what merchant you consigned the Princess's trees, and Lady Hervey's bibliothèque-I mean for the latter. I did not see the Princess last week, as the loss of my nephew kept me from public places. Of all public places, guess the most unlikely one for the most unlikely person to have been at. I had sent to know how Lady Macclesfield did: Louis brought me word that he could hardly get into St. James's-square, there was so great a crowd to see my lord lie in state. At night I met my Lady Milton3 at the Duchess of Argyle's, and said in joke, "Soh, to be sure, you have been to see my Lord Macclesfield lie in state!" thinking it impossible - she burst out into a fit of laughter, and owned she had. She and my Lady Temple had dined at Lady Betty's, put on hats and cloaks, and literally waited on the steps of the house in the thick of the mob, while one posse was admitted and let out again for a second to enter, before they got in.

You will as little guess what a present I have had from Holland only a treatise of mathematical metaphysics from an author I never heard of, with great encomiums on my

1

Lady Cardigan's eldest daughter, married, in 1767, to the third Duke of Buccleugh. This amiable and venerable lady is still living.-C. [She died in 1827.]

2 His valet.

3 Lady Caroline Sackville, wife of Joseph Damer, Lord Milton, of Ireland.-C.

Lady Betty Germain.-C.